


Expensive Tastes

by DictionaryWrites (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel
Genre: Aromantic!Loki, Bottom Loki, Bottom Tony Stark, Community: norsekink, Condoms, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, In Public, M/M, Misunderstandings, Obedience, Orders, Overstimulation, Sex Toys, Spanking, Sugar Daddy, Switching, Teasing, Temperature Play, Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2306975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the kink meme. AU. Loki acquires Tony as a sugar daddy - unfortunately, Tony misunderstands the dynamics of their relationship.</p><p>Note: Loki is aro in this fic. Loki/Tony is NOT endgame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kink Meme Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/73217) by Anon. 



"With respect, Thor, I have an appointment to keep." Loki says, and with that, he hangs up on his brother, feeling no guilt at all for the fact. His suit is tailored, skinny and accentuating the _nicer_ parts of his frame (as if he isn't terribly lovely all over), and a green scarf hangs loosely around his neck.

The iPhone drops into the inside of his jacket - Loki is too good at pickpocketing to make himself an easy target. Not that he ever _has_ to pickpocket, really - it's just nice to have some skills on hand. Party tricks, and the like.

Funny, really: when he does it a party it's magic, and in the street it's petty theft. _Fascinating,_ people are.

"Mr _Stark_." He purrs when he arrives, approaching the other's private table with the confidence of a man invited, and Stark raises an eyebrow at him; Loki was honestly surprised when the other man agreed to meet with him. Honestly very surprised indeed - not complaining, of course.

"Mr _Odinson_." Loki just barely manages not to snarl. Stark is watching him carefully, certainly, but Loki will give him no satisfaction - not for so crass an attempt.

" _Laufeyson_." He corrects neatly, and Tony Stark grins at him. He likes to push buttons, so Loki has been told.

"Laufeyson." He says as he gestures for Loki to come closer. "Of course." He's attractive, really, much handsomer than many men Loki has had in the past, and even more attractive than some of the women. Quite the catch, truth be told. "And what are you drinking, _Laufeyson?_ "

"Loki." He corrects again, and he slides across the table from the other man. Slowly, he pushes his hand across the table, putting his cool hand over the other's warm one, cupping his glass and bringing it to his lips. His sip is tiny, and when he draws the glass back he pretends the whiskey doesn't burn his throat, licking his lips in a way he knows the men like. Stark is rapt. "And I'll have some of _that,_ please."

He speaks clearly, sweetly - they like it when he's polite. They like it when he defers, when he obeys. Well, truth be told, they just like _him_ , though half of them would never admit it.

"Tony, then." Stark says, and he catches the waiter as he passes by, making his order. "Now, _Loki_. How'd you meet Clint Barton?"

Oh. So _that's_ why he'd agreed to meet with him - _Clint_ had put in a good word. Well, Loki is going to have to buy the man's mutt a nice new collar for Christmas this year, it seems. And something nice for Natasha, of course: one could never gift to one and not the other.

"He didn't tell you?" Loki asks, and he doesn't bat his eyelashes, but he does part his lips, leaning over the table and resting his chin on the backs of slender fingers.

"No." Stark says. "He didn't. Which I thought was _weird_. Guy's usually so conversational. Good listener, too." Loki chuckles a little - the man is witty enough, certainly. "And then I looked _you_ up. Loki Laufeyson not Odison, problem child, _several_ accounts of juvenile arrest, _shunned_ by his father... And pretty hot to boot. I just thought, _wow_. This is a man I want to meet."

"Oh, did you?" Loki asks, a graceful eyebrow arching. The waiter puts two new glasses of whiskey down; he sips from his own tumbler as if the liquid isn't uncomfortable heat down his throat.

"Oh, yeah." Stark murmurs. "Now, _kid,_ you want a drink you can stomach before I send this guy away?" Loki stares at him expressionlessly for a second. "You're a good actor, but I looked you up, remember. Four or five blog posts about how you don't like scotch."

"Red wine. You choose the vintage." Loki says after a pause, because he knows full well when he's been bested. "You're certainly thorough."

"I'm an engineer who makes bodysuits. If I wasn't thorough I'd be dead." Stark points out, and Loki chuckles before he offers his response.

"Haven't you _nearly_ died at least twice?" Stark shrugs.

"Didn't say I was _impeccable._ " Loki laughs again, and his foot moves forwards, settling beside Stark's on the ground beneath the table. He slides his glass of whiskey back across the table, but the man _tuts_. "Uh uh, hot stuff. You asked for it, you drink it. Down it." Loki looks at the glass, and then at the other man.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Stark?" Loki asks, widening his eyes, parting his lips: he infantilizes his own features, drawing out the "k" and making it sound as innocent as he can. Stark betrays no positive reaction. A toy he wants, but not a boy toy, it seems.

"No. I just wanna see you _squirm_." He speaks with satisfaction, his lip curling into a plain smirk. Oh, yes. This one is _just_ Loki's speed, and he might just _kiss_ Clint Barton on the mouth the next time he sees him. Loki reaches out, putting his hands slowly around the expensive crystal tumbler, and then he brings it to his mouth, downing its contents in one.

He lets out a short, half-groaned exhale, closing his eyes and wincing at the sudden burn at the back of his throat. He barely restrains himself from choking, and when the boy hands him the wine he drinks from the glass greedily, the red staining his lips as he tries to get the taste from his mouth replaced.

Stark is looking at him, _satisfied_ , with a little grin on his face.

"Now, _Tony_ , to answer your question," Loki says, in as smooth a voice as he can muster. "Clint and Natasha were our bodyguards growing up. As I'm _certain_ you well know."

"Maybe I just want to hear about it." Stark says casually, sipping at his whiskey, and Loki snorts.

"I don't think you do." He says dryly, shaking his head. Stark expects something from him, and it is, as always, Loki's occupation to figure out _exactly_ what is wanted from him. And for now? He thinks the want is seduction.

"You think right. Tell me something I _do_ want to hear about, then." Yes, seduction. That's what he wants. Loki lets his foot ride higher, dragging pleasantly over the side of the other's ankle before he leans forwards.

He uses the pretense of adjusting Stark's tie to say, "I prepped myself this morning thinking of you." The words are purred against the other's jaw as he unties the silken cloth to retie it. "Fucked myself with my fingers knowing I'd be meeting with you, plugged myself up. Ready, excited. Can barely stop myself from spreading my legs and lying back on this _table_."

Loki draws himself back, after that, and pours himself half a glass more wine. Tony is staring at him, his pupils noticeably dilated, a slight flush at his neck and his cheeks. Hook, line, sinker.

Loki gets better at this with every passing day.

"You always this forward?" Stark- no, _Tony_ \- asks. His voice is strained, just like, Loki imagines, the cock in his trousers.

"Not always." Loki answers easily enough, playing over the rim of his glass with a pretty finger. "But when I want something, I do my best to have it."

"And you want me?" Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't believe I'm alone in that particular desire, _Tony_. Surely you're not surprised?"

"I'm _shocked_." Tony says bluntly, and for the barest of seconds Loki feels panic and worry, that his plan has gone wrong and he's going to be thrown out and oh, God, _oh_ \- "You got me to buy drinks, and now I don't even want to stay here. I want to take you somewhere completely different." Loki puts on a charming, coquettish little smile.

"Oops?" He offers, innocently. "All the same, I am _so_ glad to see we're on the same page."

" _Schht._ " Tony says, holding up his hand. "Start talking again when we're on the same mattress." He says, and he stands. Loki follows him out of pure instinct - he knows to follow the rich men, knows what he's for.

It's little more than prostitution, in true fact; Loki Laufeyson is an unabashed _sugarbaby_ , and... Well, and what? It's valid enough, he thinks. Goodness knows he's accustomed to a certain way of living, and far better to hang from the arm of an attractive, well-famed engineer than to try and make his _father_ happy.

Adopted father.

"How long until we are on the same mattress, do you think?" Loki asks as they slide into the back of Tony's car, and Tony laughs at him.

"Did you hear what I just said to you?"

"Oh, I heard." Loki murmurs, and he puts his hands on either side of Tony's head, moving to straddle his lap with thighs made muscular from riding - of course, these days Loki doesn't see horses very much. Unfortunate, really, but he's not allowed himself to get _out of shape._ "I'm just not one for orders, you see."

"Nor am I. I don't like being handed things."

"I don't like handing things over."

"I don't like it when people answer the phone or open the door."

"Of course." Loki says, and the words are muffled slightly as he begins to undo the other man's tie and unbutton his shirt, dragging his lips over the older man's neck.

"Workaholic. Insomniac."

"All acceptable." Loki says as he begins to grind his hips down against the other man - he revels in the fact that Tony's voice is becoming just a _little_ bit strained, and he feels powerful. He always feels powerful when he has men like this.

"And I don't _sub._ " Tony says, and then his hand roughly tangles itself in Loki's hair, squeezing tightly and all but dragging the follicles from his scalp: the younger man chokes out a harsh noise, going still with his hands flat on the other's chest.

"Oh, good." Loki says breathlessly. "I did wonder how long I'd be doing that for." Tony lets out a _groan_.

"God, where did they _make_ you?"

"Second circle of Hell." Tony starts laughing, and once the words "Happy, get us in ASAP." are out of his mouth, his lips are on Loki's, and his stubble burns, and his teeth bite at Loki's lips, and he is _good_ at kissing, fantastic where he slides his hands up and under Loki's shirt to pull and pinch at his nipples.

"You want me to call you Daddy?" Loki asks as they stumble up the drive - their ties are both in the car, and while Loki has not been divested of his clothing, he's dishevelled enough that his dignity is a distant thought.

"Tony or _sir._ "

" _Sir._ " Loki purrs against his ear, and Stark does that frustrated, excited groan again, pushing him into the house.

"Christmas is coming six times over for Clint this year." Tony says as he drags Loki up the stairs by his shirt.

"Do you know, _Sir_ , I just had something of the same thought." Loki says, and then he presses his lips to the other man's, letting himself be led toward the bed.

Tony Stark is _perfect_ \- and Loki can be perfect right back for as long as the man wants him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony's hands are rapid as they move down the other's shirt, unbuttoning the newly ruffled and wrinkled material, and Loki lets it slide off his shoulders with his jacket once it's  _finally_ open, leaving him shirtless in front of the other man.

"Ugh, I  _love_ pretty things." Tony says, and then he throws Loki back onto the bed. Loki lies there for a few seconds, looking up at him, and Tony looks  _ever_ so pleased. 

"Am I pretty enough for you?" Loki asks, and Tony chuckles, reaching forward and beginning to undo the other man's trousers, easily unbuttoning and unzipping them before he leans, unlacing Loki's shoes and throwing those aside. Then the trousers come off, and Loki is there in just his underwear.

"Oh,  _yes_ , though you disappointed me here." Tony says, and he pulls Loki up by the waistband of the underwear, drawing a soft noise out of his mouth. "No lingerie?"

"Couldn't spoil you completely." Loki murmurs against the other's mouth, and Tony laughs at him.

"Loki, I  _like_ being spoiled." Tony says, and then he presses his mouth to Loki's again, and he is  _good_ at kissing. He drops the other man back on the bed, and then he hooks his thumbs into the boxers and pulls them down, and when Tony wraps a hand around his cock, Loki gasps loudly against the other man's mouth.

"You should,  _ah_ , let me go then, that I might spoil you." Loki says, because when it suits him he wears silver jewellery, and when it suits him better he uses the silver his tongue is made of. Tony grins at him.

"I'll spoil myself." He says. "Sit down." Loki does, settling on the edge of the bed and watching Tony carefully, leaning back on the one hand as the other curls around his own cock. He strokes himself slowly, and he puts on a show, letting out soft, shuddering moans as he tips his head back. In his hand, his dick gives a little twitch, and Tony laughs at him. "You're just a little whore, aren't you?"

The other man's voice comes in a conversational tone, and Loki chuckles, fisting himself just a little bit faster. "You know,  _Sir_ , I do believe I am." Tony leans forwards, and as he kisses Loki the younger man opens his eyes, turning to look at what Tony's laid on the bed beside them.

Condoms. Lube. And- "What's that?" Loki asks, and Tony chuckles against his neck before biting at the pale skin there, making Loki choke out a noise.

" _That_ is your three orgasms for tonight."

"Three?" Loki repeats with a tone more than  _slightly_ intimidated, and then he lies back as Tony picks it up - it's a glove of sorts, and it slides over Tony's digits. There are pads over each of his finger and thum tips, and then small panels in carefully selected places. "You look like Seven of Nine." Loki complains.

"Star Trek fan, huh?" Loki hates Star Trek, in truth - each series had been a new favourite of Balder's, and Loki had ended up sat with his fawning family as they'd indulged the little  _star's_ wants. 

"Love it." He lies seamlessly, and he looks at the glove where it moulds against Tony's hand, examining it. It- well, it must vibrate, he imagines. What else could it  _do_ ? He wraps his hand around Loki's cock, thumbing over the head with the odd plastic pad - and it is smooth, cold and  _smooth_ , and maybe it's  _not_ plastic.

Already Loki's breath has hitched in his throat, and he goes stiff, waiting. He anticipates it, and Tony must know he's waiting because the grin that spreads across his features is slow, easy.

"Ready?" Tony asks, and Loki breathes out, slowly.

"Yes." He says softly, and his eyes close tightly, his body stiffening yet further - for all his wants, his thoughtless desires, Loki is as much a hedonist as any man. More so, perhaps, and for this sensation, new, he is excited.

Loki, it turns out, had  _not_ been ready for it.

The vibrations are sudden and intense, and then the plastic-not-plastic turns warm, and Loki only registers he'd started screaming when Tony's other hand presses hard against his mouth, and he is  _writhing_ under the too-intense sensation. 

It's sparks of pleasure all through him, affecting him to shudder under the touches, and he arches his back for more, his legs spreading as wide as they possibly can - and yes, he must look a  _terribly_ good picture like this, because Tony is looking at his face intently.

Loki lets out a low, shuddering noise, and then says, " _Please_ ." in the sweetest fashion he possibly can: he is good at begging, Loki is, though he prefers it when his partners are the ones on their knees. 

" _God._ " Tony groans, and then the vibrations, if that's possible, get even more intense, and the metal pieces - because yes, that's what they are, metal - begin to turn hot and cold on top of that, and Loki is left writhing out of pure  _desperation._

Tony grabs him by the hair and pulls him up, kissing him hard on the lips, kissing him deeply, and Loki is  _lost_ in sensation. He closes his eyes, feels the vibrations, the heat, the cool, feels Tony's mouth on his neck and then his shoulder, feels sharp pain: a bite.

He lets it wash over him, and when he comes all the stiffness (when had he gone so  _stiff_ ?) melts out of his body, and Loki is left limp on the bed, taking in languid breaths because he cannot quite work up the effort to breathe normally. 

Tony has his hands on him, and he's  _lifting_ Loki as if Loki is some slender twink, and he's  _not_ \- there's muscle on his form and he is broad and he is  _heavy_ , but Tony lifts him like he weighs as much as he had in his youth. 

"Never mind." Tony murmurs, and he carries Loki to the side of the bed, pulling him into his lap, and Loki is  _exhausted_ for one orgasm. He can't quite work his limbs, and he lies against Tony. Tony is  _warm_ . "Just one, I think."

"You rather took me aback with that one." Loki mumbles, and Tony laughs at him: it's hot and low against his ear, and Loki finds he enjoys the dirty sound of it at the shell of flesh. 

"And I've not even fucked you yet, kid. Aren't  _you_ in for a treat?" Seduction. Wit. Sarcasm.  _Soul._ That's what Tony wants. Loki chuckles, drawing his hand over the other's chest (and it's an effort, because even his  _arms_ ache all of a sudden). 

"I really don't think you can compare to  _that_ , Tony." He purrs, and Stark just looks at him, smirking at the challenge issued - Loki has full and complete confidence that he  _can,_ and hopes that Tony will take pity on him and let him stay the night.

They don't always allow that, the first time. 

"What, you don't trust me to make you  _scream_ ?"

"I've already screamed once, Tony. What about your poor neighbours?"

"Haven't got any neighbours." Tony murmurs, and his thumb plays over Loki's mouth - the sensation is nice, comfortable against his skin.

"Gag me anyway." Loki says, so he is spared of continuing wit for the rest of the night, and then his tongue darts out, dragging over the pad of the other man's thumb, now divested of its futuristic glove toy. 

"Naughty  _boy._ " Tony says, eyebrow raising.

"Well, that's why I'm here, isn't it?" Loki teases, and then he nips at the flesh. Tony presses his hand lower, grasping at Loki's neck, and for just a second Loki goes stiff, uncertain, but the hand moves lower, thumbing over his nipples.

"Not gonna hurt you." Tony assures him, and Loki cannot be certain of that: unfortunately, his methods aren't what one would call  _safe._ But no, no - Clint's recommendations are sound, and Natasha wouldn't have friendly contact with a man too tended to tempers. 

"Are you going to gag me?" Loki asks, an eyebrow raising gracefully. 

"Depends. How polite can you ask?"

_**Sir.** _ Loki freezes, his eyes wide, and Tony looks up.

"What is it, JARVIS?"

_**Fury on line 1, sir. Seems quite an urgent matter.** _ JARVIS is- a computer? A computer. A computer who is- talking to-  **_Perhaps let Loki rest all the same, sir._ **

"Yes,  _ thank you _ , JARVIS." Tony mutters, and he stands up, making a "wait" motion with his index finger. "I'll be back in like,  _ five _ ." And then Tony moves out of the room, closing the door. It's cold without him, and Loki shifts, glancing around uncertainly.

_**Quilts and blankets are in the cupboard to the left.** _ Loki jolts, unnerved by the robotic but masculine voice, and he stands, moving to pick out a thick duvet, moving to lie in bed with it curled tightly around his body.

"JARVIS?" He asks.

_**JARVIS. Just A Rather Very Intelligent System.** _ Loki chuckles a little.

"Sophisticated artificial intelligence, then." He says quietly, and JARVIS makes a  _ scoffing _ sound. He is used to a certain luxury, certainly, though he's never met anyone with a  _ computer _ as- well, a butler? Loki supposes that is his purpose. 

_**My intelligence is, by no doubt, less artificial than some of his bed partners. You, at least, measure up.** _ Loki blinks at that, uncertain how to respond to the comment, but the door opens, and Tony comes in.

"Let's order Chinese." He says, and Loki makes absolutely  _ no _ effort to move.

"Let's stay in bed." He retorts, just to see how the other man reacts. Tony laughs, and slips into bed with him.

"Fine. JARVIS, I want-" He reels off a dozen things, and Loki looks at him, interested. Odd man, really. Odd tastes. 

_**Do you wish for anything on top of that impressive vomitarium, Loki?** _

"No, JARVIS. But thank  _ you _ for having the manners to ask." Tony slaps his arse, and Loki laughs, pulling him into a kiss - and yes,  _ yes _ .

This is just what he needs for now. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Six weeks. Six weeks, and Tony has bought him two new suits, showered him in gifts, brought him to gourmet restaurants, and Loki has gone home, what, _twice?_

" _Ah_ -" Loki groans out as Tony's hands move just a little more roughly on his shoulders, thumbs digging in and seeking the sorer flesh of the muscle to be found there. Tony laughs at him, though he is not a sadist, as Loki has discovered.

He's _curious_ , and he's an engineer in the bedroom as much as he is down in his workshop, but sadistic he is not. This particular massage was in return for the one Loki had given him, doing his best to distract the other man from his work.

Loki had succeeded, of course, and now his arms and legs are each bound, and he is being _thoroughly_ massaged. He is naked despite the cool in the lab, and his face is pressed to the pillow Tony had pulled out for him - he's spread on one of the metal tables with wheels on its legs, intended for tools.

He'd almost be offended if Tony didn't occasionally drag his thumb from the top of Loki's spine down to the cleft of his arse, pressing in.

"Anthony," He says breathlessly. "I want-"

"Gonna gag you, Loki-o. I did _tell_ you there was no talking in my lab - no talking, no vociferating, no being a little _slut._ " He speaks casually, teasingly, and Loki does _enjoy_ these little interactions - Stark can be so terribly _fun_ when he chooses.

"But, S _ir_ -" Loki drags out the "s", intending to tease. A hand comes down harshly on his backside, and he lets out a sharp, pained noise. Tony then presses a piece of plastic between his teeth - the gag isn't big, but it's round and discomfiting against his teeth.

"Next time," Tony murmurs, and he leans down, crouching in front of the table and meeting Loki's eyes. Loki has never felt so simultaneously hot and _vulnerable_ in his life. "I am gonna put a ring gag in here, and I'm gonna make up a special table, just for you, keep all your holes open for me to play with."

Loki lets out a sigh around the gag, looking at Tony and trying not to be _too_ excited at the thought. He _likes_ sex like this - kinky, with roles, but not with too much pain. Not unless _he's_ inflicting it, anyway, and Tony doesn't strike him as much of a sub _or_ a masochist, though he certainly enjoys it when Loki rakes his nails down the other man's back.

He waits patiently on the table as Tony sets about typing up ideas, not particularly uncomfortable, until he hears the door to the workshop open. Tony's eyes go wide and Loki stares at him, panicking a little, but Tony grabs at a blanket and throws it over Loki's naked body, hiding him from view.

Loki is going to _murder_ the man once he's free, sugar daddy be _damned._

"Tony!"

"Clint!" Oh, it's Clint. Loki screams around the gag. "I _can_ explain that noise."

"S'that Loki?" Light comes back as Clint pulls the blanket back, and Loki nods at him in greeting. Clint puts his sunglasses on the top of his head and raises his eyebrows. Natasha moves forwards, and she undoes the gag in Loki's mouth, dropping it aside before reaching to untie his wrists.

"Don't you look nice?" She says dryly.

"I try." Loki returns, and he sits up and pulls himself off the table, pulling on his jeans. "Nice to see you." Natasha lets out a dismissive noise, handing him his shirt. "Oh, come, I don't get a kiss on the cheek?"

"Sure you do, kiddo." Clint grabs him by the hair and presses a messy kiss to his cheek, and Loki lets out a loud sound of irritation, struggling in his grip as he does it again and again. Loki jabs him hard in the hip, and with that they're sparring as they had when Loki had been fifteen, wrestling and fighting properly.

Tony's hands are crossed over his chest, and he watches with a _fascinated_ expression, pencil on his chin. He glances at Natasha.

"How'd you get in?" He asks, and she laughs at him, but doesn't answer. Damn it.

"I win!" Clint says brightly and Loki breathes heavily under the other man's weight, expression a snarl. He glances to the side, and notices how _rapt_ Tony suddenly is, and grins.

"Come now, Clint. Examine my face and compare to yours - who is the true winner between us?"

"Still me." comes the easy answer, and then he pulls Loki up.

"If we could, you know, do our jobs, Barton?" Clint says something Loki doesn't understand in sharp Russian, but given that Natasha just tuts in response and rolls her eyes, he doubts it was much worth hearing.

"Fury wanted us to drop this in with you." Natasha says, pushing a file into Tony's hands. "I won't tell him about your new _boytoy._ " Tony snorts, taking the file and glancing through it, raising his eyebrows. Loki tries to lean and have a look himself, but Natasha pinches his nipple, making him yelp.

Tony laughs at him as Loki clutches at his chest, and yes, Loki _is_ going to strangle him tonight.

"I'll wait for you in bed, then." He says icily, and as he descends the stairs, he hears Tony let out a groan. Perhaps he _will_ try playing the dominant partner tonight.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Oh, come on, Loki. Don't tell me I hurt your _feelings._ ” Tony says as he enters the bedroom. Loki's retort is to simply pull the quilt over his head; he doesn't mind _too_ terribly, of course. The Avengers Initiative honestly sounds completely dull, and he doesn't really care so much to involve himself; one of his eternal priorities, however, is keeping Stark's attention.

Loki is far more likely to get Stark's attention by _sulking._

Absently, he wonders how long it will take before the older man gets bored of him. Surely it won't be _too_ long – the man has a very short attention span, so Loki should enjoy it while it lasts.

“Come out from under the covers.” Tony asks, and Loki throws the comforter back, looking at the other man with a dour expression on his face. Tony mimics his charge's moue in an exaggerated fashion, his lips pouting right out.

Loki pretends to try and hold a smile back, and then feigns the break of his resolution, giving a quiet chuckle.

Christ, the things he does for comfort and a new toy now and then.

“Are they gone?” Loki asks as Tony starts to undress, and he is shameless in watching the other's skin get bared to the room – Tony is physically attractive, after all, in a way that many of the men he's played with haven't been.

“Yep. Just you and me.”

“And JARVIS.”

“JARVIS doesn't count.” Tony says, and once naked he slides forwards. For an ageing man, the engineer does have an _impressive_ libido.

“You hurt his feelings when you say things like that.” Loki chides, but then he moves forwards, carefully straddling Tony's thighs and dragging his nails over the other's chest (though carefully, of course, avoiding the glow of the arc reactor in the centre of it).

“Well, he hurts my feelings all the time, so.” is Tony's not unexpected retort, and Loki adjusts himself, lining Tony's cock up before lowering himself down; the older man's eyes flutter shut, and Loki clenches about him as best he can as he begins to fuck himself down.

It doesn't take long. When endurance isn't Tony's main consideration, he lets hedonism take over, and Tony comes soon enough, soaking Loki's insides.

Loki moves to lie in bed. “You should go back to work.” He says playfully, blinking at Tony in an innocent fashion.

“What, while you get to nap?” Tony asks, and Loki _grins_ at him.

“Well, what purpose can I serve in the lab, _sir_?” He asks, drawing out the sibilance of it. For all he teases, he really does wish to sleep, but if Tony asks him to come down and play some role or other, he will.

It's not what he's _paid_ for, as such, but it certainly is his position.

“I guess you're right, kid.” Tony says, and in an unexpected display of tenderness, he plays over Loki's cheek, rubbing his thumb over the pale white flesh there. “See you when you wake up. How does Greek sound?”

“It sounds _marvellous._ ” Loki murmurs, and he lies back, watching Tony pull on his t-shirt and jeans again before moving downstairs. “JARVIS?” He asks quietly. “May I have the television on, please?”

The TV, with its obscenely wide screen and angle at the ceiling for perfect bedtime viewing, turns on. “Dim lights and close blinds?” The news is on: Loki watches with half-interest as the Χ-Factor and the Fantastic Four head up some sort of mission together; vaguely, he wonders what it must be like, being a super hero.

He supposes he could ask Tony, but the answer he'd receive would be mocking and evasive at best, and Clint had sort of stumbled into it. Loki doubts Natasha even  _considers_ herself a hero, so it'd be pointless asking her as well.

“Which is your favourite, JARVIS?” Loki asks tiredly as he looks up at the screen, sinking back against the pillows. 

_** Danger, I should think. ** _

“I don't suppose I'd be correct in guessing you've a crush?” Loki asks, tone teasing. JARVIS emits a sound that would be a scoff, if it came from a living man.

_**I don't suppose you would be, no.**_ Loki lets his eyes close, and then he sleeps for a little while, spread on the  _sinfully_ comfortable bed of Stark's.

When he wakes, Stark is watching him, a mug clasped loosely in his hands and an expression on his face Loki isn't certain what to classify as. Affectionate, perhaps? “Mmm?”

“Cocoa.” Stark says, and he offers the steaming mug. Loki smiles a little, sitting up in bed and taking a small sip.

“You spoil me.”

“You like it.”

“I do.” Loki agrees, and he takes another sip, enjoying the rich thickness of it, and the half-melted marshmallows mixed in. “Time to get dressed?”

“Aw, is the poor boy still sleepy?”

“The poor boy _is_ still sleepy.” Loki agrees in a put-upon fashion, and Stark chuckles. 

“Too bad. Up you get.”

And Loki does. It's (something like) his job, after all, and it's a job he does so  _enjoy._

 


	5. Chapter 5

Loki isn't especially fond of Greek food. When they enter the restaurant he resolves excuses of rickety chairs in order to sit on the cushioned bench with Tony, wrapping his body over the older man's shoulders.

“Order for me.” He says in a sweet, wheedling tone; Tony will take it as _trust_ and think it oh so _sweet_. Not as “it all tastes like grease and oregano so you may as well choose”. He doesn't really listen when Tony orders – gyros, garlic bread, something else, something else.

“How do you say that?” Tony says when Loki mentions a few minutes later, off-hand, the Greek penchant for use of oregano.

“Hmm?” Loki blinks at him, leaning back slightly and regarding the other man quizzically. People are looking at them: Loki's legs are firmly intertwined with Tony's, and he is half in Stark's lap. Of course, no one will dare say a _word._

How could they?

“Say the spice again.”

“Oregano.” Loki repeats, and Tony lets out a little laugh.

“Or-eh-gar-no?” Ah. Anglo _philia._ Loki offers a self-deprecating smile.

“Why, how do you say it?” He asks, and his legs come away from Tony's, his elbows going to the table in order that he can rest his chin upon his hands.

“O-reg-a-no.”

“What a _curious_ pronunciation.” Loki comments, and Tony snorts. “From a _curious_ man, of course. Pray, why _Greek_ this evening, hmm?”

“Maybe I wanted to go out with an Adonis.”

“Perhaps you ought have phoned my brother then, Tony, for an Adonis I am not.” Tony grins at him, and then he reaches out, wrapping one arm around his waist. His hand goes slightly lower, presses subtly against Loki's crotch under the table, and the younger man lets out a little gasp, tilting his hips up and into the touch.

“No, guess not.” Tony murmurs. “You're a Loki.”

“Is that a _dad_ joke?” Loki asks disapprovingly, and Tony laughs, tightening the grip of his hand. Loki lets out a choked little sound, feeling a flush begin to rise up his neck and to his cheeks; exhibitionism is something he's always taken such _delight_ in, and it's good to have someone that will _play._

Stark just has no shame at all.

“You are a _terror._ ” Loki says, shifting his body just slightly into the other man's hand.

“What?” Tony says, adopting a tone of faux innocence. “I'm just out for dinner with my boyfriend. It's not like I'm sucking your _cock._ ” Tony's voice is spoken directly against the younger man's ear, his breath hot, his voice low. It's _lovely_ , except-

“Pardon?” Loki asks.

“Well, I guess I _could_ suck your cock, but you'd have to drop a fork or something.” Hm. Well, if _that's_ what Tony wants to call him, Loki supposes he oughtn't complain.

Loki flicks a fork onto the floor, and Tony Stark – _the_ Tony Stark, _the_ Iron Man, drops under the table to hide behind the blue and white striped cloth, and Loki does his best not to react when his jeans are unzipped.

“Where is Mr Stark?” asks Dimitri as he sets plate after plate on the table in front of him.

“He's gone out for a moment.” Loki says as a hand wraps around the base of his cock, and his breath hitches as he adds, “Phone call.”

“Ah, he is a very busy man.”

“True.” Loki manages to say, as a mouth wraps about the head of his prick, and then _beard_ at his crotch as Tony takes him straight to the hilt, good _God_ , how does he _do_ that? Loki tries to pick at a piece of salted pork from the plate of gyros with his fork, but Stark's tongue is too _rapid_ on his shaft, and he keeps _swallowing_ , and then he _hums_ -

Good God.

Loki's orgasm is rapid and leaves him stiff and awkward at the table as Tony zips his jeans up again, rapidly popping up again and settling beside Loki.

“How's the gyro?” It's greasy, too salty, and the texture of the pork is utterly horrifying. Loki swallows, and offers the other man a very pleasant smile.

“It's good.” He lies seamlessly, and he takes a piece on his fingers, holding it to Stark's mouth. The older man raises an eyebrow, but he takes it, lips over the other's thumb. “You are _shameless._ ”

“Says Mr “I Just Got My Dick Sucked In Public”.” Tony retorts, and he laughs, amused.

\---

“I want to fuck you.” Loki says as soon as they step over the threshold, and the door shuts closed behind them as Loki pins Tony back against the wall.

“Is that _so?_ ” Tony asks, and he grins up at Loki, delighting as he does, so Loki as noticed, in their height difference. “Keep talking, pretty boy.”

“I should like,” Loki murmurs, and one of his hands rests beside Tony's head on the wall, the other spread on Tony's chest to keep him pressed against the wall. “To have you twice, perhaps thrice over, put my cock in you, watch you cry out and writhe and beg and _beg_ for me to fill you oh-so-deeply.”

“ _Thrice?_ ”

“Oh, hush.” Loki murmurs, and he wonders if Tony will allow him to have this; oh, he _prays_ the other man does.

“Fine. _Fine_ , Loki-o, I'll feel that dick in me-” Tony grabs him through his jeans once again, and Loki lets out a hissed sound, falling forwards slightly so that their lips are flush together, foreheads almost touching. “But I get to tie you up while I ride you.”

“Seems an acceptable exchange.” Loki murmurs, and he grins down at the other man, quite satisfied. “Shall we?”

“Oh, _let's._ ”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Loki, once the both of them are quite naked, lies obediently back on the bed, arching his back against Tony's body as the older man leans over him to tie his wrists to the head board.

“You are _naughty._ ” Tony scolds him quietly, with one of the widest grins Loki's ever seen plain on his face.

“You're tying me up, _sir._ ” Loki murmurs, looking up at him with a moue plain on his lips. “Aren't _you_ the naughty one?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony says, and then he leans down, dragging his teeth over Loki's chest, the hair of his beard tickling either side of the scratch of his teeth. Loki lets out a groan, arching his back into the other man's mouth, and he attempts to cant his hips, but Tony catches them short. “I'm real naughty.”

“Aren't I lucky?”

“You, kid, are the luckiest guy around.” Tony says, and then he drags his tongue down the centre of Loki's abdominal muscles, affecting the younger man to _wriggle_ underneath him. “What, does that tickle?”

“Oh, get on with it.” Loki says, and he gasps as Tony's wrenches his thighs up, bringing one hand down _hard_ on his arse. He lets out a cry as Tony does it again, and again, looking at Loki with complete and utter satisfaction on his face as Loki tries to shift his hips away from the onslaught. He isn't hitting _softly_ , either – Tony's hand is _slamming_ against Loki's flesh, and Loki is left letting out noise after noise, unable to hold them back.

When Tony stops, Loki's buttocks are _burning_ , and Loki is breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed, his cock harder than ever between his legs and _dripping_ uncomfortably onto his stomach.

“Oh my _God._ ” Loki moans, and Tony laughs at him, rubbing over Loki's sore skin with a gentle hand, smirking at him.

“You like that?” He asks, and he looks so _smug_ and pleased with himself. Loki tries to kick him in the side, but Tony catches his foot with a little laugh.

“Come, are you truly asking questions like that when my prick is dripping so?” Good God, Loki should like to feel that again.

“How does it feel?” Tony asks, and when he releases Loki's thighs, letting his legs go down again; there's a slight burn in the muscle of his flesh, but it certainly is _worth_ it.

“It burns. A sort of sweet heat settled in the skin.” Loki says, letting his eyes close so he can focus on the sensation; he feels Tony's weight leave the bed, and he feels somewhat cold left alone on the bed, but he doesn't complain. The warmth in his buttocks is quite enough. “It hurts, but it's a good hurt. I don't usually like pain.”

He hears Tony scoff, and he frowns, though he doesn't yet open his eyes. His lids feel so _heavy_ – even with the pain, he believes he could quite happily sleep for some time. “For what reason are you so derisive?”

“You don't like pain, you said.” Tony says, sounding deeply amused. “But if you got the option to flog my back raw you'd take it like _that._ ” Loki hears the click of Tony's fingers, and he laughs a little, amused. Inwardly, he is uncomfortable with the idea that Tony has managed to read him so accurately – for Tony to be able to understand him is two steps too close to intimacy, and Loki doesn't wish to be intimate with _anyone_ , let alone Tony Stark.

The idea strikes him with a rather sudden and compelling nausea, but he hides it well.

“Well, as I say,” Loki says in as an affectionate tone as he can muster. “You are _very_ naughty.” He feels Tony's presence as much as he hears the other man's feet on the carpet, and then he feels a hand around his cock, stroking him to full hardness. “Bigger than you are.” Loki points out, and Tony snorts.

“You're like, twice my height, gigantor.” Tony says, and Loki finally opens his eyes as Tony slides the condom down over him. “I got nothing to be insecure about.”

“You're right.” Loki murmurs. “Building a big tower in the middle of the city – that's not the action of a man with penis issues.”

“If you'd _shut up_ for a second there, Freud, I want to feel this thing in my ass.”

“Oh, don't let me stop you.” Loki says, and Tony laughs at him, moving himself into the younger man's lap before lining himself up. He drops himself down a little, and Loki lets out a quiet, short little noise; Tony is _heat_ , and he's somewhat tighter around the head of Loki's cock than he'd expected.

Besides, Loki hasn't topped in a _year_ or so – the surrender to sensation is one he'd quite forgotten. Tony drops himself down a little more, clenching tight around Loki's girth, and he bites his lip to keep from letting out a whine as Tony stops himself completely, half way. The weight of the other man's thighs against his forces his buttocks to press against the mattress, and it still _burns_ to have such a touch to the newly sore flesh.

“How you feeling, pretty boy?”

“Very good, _sir._ ” Loki says breathlessly, and he tries to shift his hips up. Tony remain still, his knees pressed against Loki's waist to prevent him from canting his lower body up too much, and there is a pause of a minute or two before Loki snaps, “Can't you go the rest of the way?”

“Oh, I _could_.” Tony says. “But I don't know if I want to, kid.” Loki tries to pull at the bonds on his wrists, but there is no way he can slither out of them, and Tony grins down at him, satisfied.

“Tony- _sir_ , come now, your pleasure-”

“ _My_ pleasure is to stay right here, Loki.” Loki lets out a little grunt of frustration, because Tony is still _clenching_ now and then, and it's an awful, awful tease – he wishes and wants for more and more, and he wants to _come_.

“ _Tony_ -” Loki complains, and he heaves in a little gasp for air. “Tony, come now-”

“The magic wo- _ord_ -” Tony sing-songs at him, and Loki lets out a short, irritated noise.

“ _Please._ ” He says sharply. “Tony, _please_ -” The older man slams himself down and takes Loki all the way, and the younger man lets out a soft whine, his eyes wide. The juxtaposition of sensation is _astounding_ ; Tony tight around him, tight and _hot_ , and his arse complaining of heated pain as it is pressed against the bed by Tony's weight.

He begins to thrust himself down, and every thrust is rapid and rough, and Loki lets out loud noises, attempting to arch his back and seek _more_ , but the ties at his wrists and the knees tight at his waist stop him short.

Tony is just _using_ him, Loki realizes, using him as little more than a toy, and he lets out a noise that is little more than a _wail_ , dropping back on the bed and looking up at Tony as he fucks himself down.

Tony fists his own cock, and his come spatters on Loki's stomach, wet and slick and _uncomfortable_ , but then Tony grins down at him, looking pleased with himself. “You wanna come?”

“ _Tony.”_ Loki grumbles, and he laughs, pulling away and pulling the condom off, quickly tying it off and throwing it into the bin in the corner. He wraps his hand around the younger man's cock, then, and he brings Loki off swiftly enough before wiping his hand and Loki's stomach with a tissue.

With that, he undoes the binding at Loki's wrists, and Loki lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping onto the bed on his side. “Worth it?”

“Depends.” Loki says, with some fatigue evident in his tone. “Do you have balm to apply to my buttocks?”

“No, 'fraid not.” Tony dips down, pressing a kiss to the other's shoulder in an affectionate fashion. Loki rolls onto his back, looking up at Tony with his eyes half-lidded. “But I _guess_ I could be convinced to be a good boyfriend and go out... To the kitchen, to call someone to have it delivered.”

The furrow of Loki's brow, slightly perplexed and curious, shows on his face before he can school his expression into one of neutrality again; Tony notices, and frowns.

“What?”

“It's nothing, truly.” Loki insists with a casual wave of his hand. “The balm would be nice.”

“No, why'd you make that face?” Tony insists, and Loki shrugs.

“Well, it's none of my business what you call me. I don't mind-” Tony is staring at him with such an expression of confusion on his face that Loki is stopped short, mid-sentence. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What do you mean it's not your business what I call you?” Tony asks, and he is scowling in a way that makes Loki ever so slightly uncomfortable. He's obviously stepped in the wrong fashion – God, how is he meant to save _this_?

“Oh, I just meant- you know, _Tony_ , you can call me whatever you-”

“Uh uh, cut the bullshit.” Tony says firmly, and Loki sits up, discomfited, and shifts to the edge of the bed – the other side from Tony. “Tell me what you mean.”

“Well, I understand for the sake of your dignity it might be more appropriate to call me your _boyfriend_ in public, but when we're in private it simply strikes me as slightly bizarre.” Loki says, praying that that's a more appropriate answer. Honesty is supposedly the best policy, after all.

“And what do you think would be more appropriate to call you in private?” Tony asks, parroting Loki's words back at him, and while Loki has never expected Tony capable of physical violence – at least, not in his _partners_ , he adjusts his position on the bed, ready to run.

One must always be _ready_ for something like that.

“I don't know what you want me to say.” Loki says quietly. “I'm sorry, if I've offended you, I merely-”

“No, no, Loki.” The tension fades from Tony's shoulders a little, replaced with a sort of tired resignation. “No, just tell me the truth.”

“Well, some are comfortable calling me just _whore_. There's an erotic note to it, I suppose. _Kept boy_ is common vernacular, though perhaps slightly Victorian. Sugar baby is the most modernized version-” Loki had looked away to begin speaking, and now he looks at Tony the older man looks almost _destroyed._

“When we met, you asked if I wanted you to call me daddy.” Tony says, as if something is falling into place. “I just thought- I should have-”

“But you've been paying for my- my clothes, and-”

“I just do that! I didn't realize it was- that _you_ were-” Tony is waving his arms, and Loki feels a horrific amount of shame as he rapidly moves to stand, pulling on his clothes.

“I am _so_ sorry, I will, of course, remunerate you as I can-” Loki says distractedly, hurrying as he pushes himself as quickly as he can into too-skinny jeans. He's going to _murder_ Clint.

“You could just stay.” Tony says, and Loki turns to stare at him, wondering what to say in response to that. “I mean- if you're interested in me, uh, like that, you could just-”

“No.” Loki says firmly, and he pulls on his boots. “With respect, Mr Stark, I don't feel romantic attraction. And while you're certainly physically attractive, it would be improper for me to remain here outside of my usual relationship dynamics.”

“You're aro.” Tony says. He looks so _tired_ , so upset. Loki doesn't feel particular sympathy for him; Loki feels no sympathy at any time. Unfortunate, certainly, and he is very, _very_ embarrassed, but he shall say nothing more. The older man's eyes move as he makes the connection, finding whatever definition of the word he has in stock. “Like Natasha?” Ah, yes. Appropriate.

“Like Natasha, yes.” Loki agrees, and he grasps at his coat. “I'll remunerate you as soon as possible, as I said. My apologies, Mr Stark.”

“Don't call me that, Loki, just-”

“Good evening, Mr Stark.” Loki interrupts him, and then he rapidly slips from the room, bringing up Clint's number on his phone.

“Hey, Loki. How're you-”

“What did you tell him about me?” Loki asks sharply, cutting through Clint's friendly act, and Clint is silent for a second on the other line. He exits Tony's home, saying a polite goodbye to JARVIS as he does so, and he walks quickly.

“What d'you mean?”

“I mean Tony Stark believed us to be in a _romantic_ relationship.”

“ _What_!?”

“Can you pick me up?” Loki asks, and Clint lets out a groan.

“I'm on a plane right now, kid – can you get to my place?”

“Mmm.” Loki hums, and he can't help but wonder if this will do any damage to his reputation. _Shit._ “Thor is going to find this hilarious.” He mutters, and Clint lets out a quiet noise.

“No, man, no he's not- I'll be there in like, two hours, okay?”

“Is it alright if I use your shower?” Loki asks quietly, and he hears Clint's sigh of understanding at the other end of the line.

“Yeah. Yeah, go right ahead – eat anything you like, too.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Clint's key is attached, by a magnet, to the railings outside of his apartment. It's completely insecure, which one would think a man of espionage would understand, but Clint always shrugs in a blasé fashion if he is corrected on the practice.

Loki moves into Clint's apartment, and he is glad for the fact that the only items in Tony's home were ones Tony had purchased for him; he will have no awkwardness in attempting to collect particular items. God, how could he have been so _ridiculously_ unprofessional?

Meals can be set aside, but there were, what, two or three bills Tony had paid for Loki's sake? That would be approximately four hundred dollars, and the clothes that could not be returned and were in Loki's flat would be more like six hundred, in total...

And Loki's new laptop. He'd have to wipe the hard drive and return it.

“Awkward.” He mutters to himself, and then he moves into Clint's bathroom, stripping his clothes off and stepping under the shower. His arse _burns_ as he does so, and he is left leaning against the shower wall, letting out a harsh little gasp as he stiffens under the heated spray.

His muscles ache somewhat, and he lets out a quiet groan, running his hands through his hair. He'd left it loose for the past few weeks – Tony had expressed an affection for his long hair – but now he wishes to tie it up and keep it out of his face.

Loki steps out of the shower, and he towels himself off before combing through the medicine cabinet for some of Natasha's hair ties. He finds one and ties his hair back, and then he moves from the bathroom into Clint's bedroom, picking one of the sets of pyjamas Clint rarely wore both halves of and putting them on.

They're not loose on him – in fact, the trousers are just a little bit too short for the length of his legs, but Loki has no wish to put on the v-necked shirt that smells like Tony Stark and _humiliation_ , now.

Loki pulls one of the spare blankets from Clint's closet and wraps himself in it, curling up with his phone on one of Clint's dilapidated arm chairs. He holds himself stiffly, feeling more than somewhat sorry for himself, and he moves to delete Tony's telephone number from his own contacts.

He drifts for a little while in silence, mulling over his stupidity in allowing this to happen, and he doesn't look up until the door opens up and Clint steps in, Natasha following close after him.

“Hey, kid.” Clint says quietly, and he reaches out, ruffling Loki's tied up hair with quiet affection. He's frowning at the younger man with a plain concern, but he still has sunglasses on. “How're you feeling?”

“Utterly humiliated.” Loki says bluntly, and Natasha drops into a seat next to him, kicking Loki's knee until he puts his feet on the ground; Natasha's own, smaller ones immediately settle into his lap.

“I would be too.” Natasha says, in a show of solidarity most would perhaps find unsympathetic. Loki appreciates the words. “What happened?”

“He'd been calling me his boyfriend.” Loki says, dropping his head back. Clint frowns, reaching out and poking at the collar of his pyjamas, apparently reassuring himself that they were _indeed_ his own. “Which I thought was weird, but lots of them do that when they're insecure about what the relationship, in fact, _is._ And I queried it, to which he replied he thought we _were_ romantically engaged. Apparently paying for his partners' things is immaterial to him. I thought him more perceptive than that!”

“Stark's pretty self-centred.” Natasha explains with a shrug. “I doubt he thought about it.”

“I said we used to babysit you and Thor, and then I winked and said you liked hot rich guys with weird facial landscaping.” Clint says awkwardly, gesturing to his own face, devoid of facial hair. “We talked to him about you two, like, on missions and shit.”

“It was mostly innuendo, and Stark wasn't lovey-dovey about you.” Natasha says, and Loki sighs, hunkering down a little in his seat.

“Thor'll be here in ten minutes or so.” Clint adds after a short pause, and Loki stares at him, his eyes wide and his expression furious.

“ _What_?”

“I told you not to tell him, Barton.”

“We had to tell him, he'd realize-”

“When Thor came, yeah, not _now_!”

“Shut up, please.” Loki says tiredly, and both of them look at him with a tired and almost fraternal affection. “You told him?”

“Yeah. If it makes you feel better, he wants to punch Tony in the face.” Clint answers unhelpfully.

“I am already embarrassed. What positive assistance would Thor's fist lend to that?” Clint doesn't say anything; Natasha rolls her eyes at him. “I need to return a few things to him. I am going to remunerate him appropriately.”

“You got the cash?” Clint asks, and Loki nods his head, looking at his own hands. “I'm sorry, man. If we'd realized he thought it was like that, we'd have told you.”

“I know.” Loki says quietly, and then he sits up straight, no longer allowing his posture to betray vulnerability. The door comes open; Thor does not knock. Loki is surprised the other man did not throw it from its hinges.

“Loki!” Thor bellows, and Loki raises an eyebrow at his brother in an unimpressed fashion.

“Must you make such racket?” Thor is unperturbed by Loki's icy fashion – immediately he thrusts himself forwards and pulls Loki out of his seat, hugging Loki close and tightly to his chest. Loki lets out a quiet, strangled hand, and then Thor leans, cupping Loki's cheek.

“Are you unharmed?”

“I could do with balm for my sore backside, but besides that, I am well.” Loki says, for the sake of a quick quip more than anything; he ought have expected the redhead behind him to reach forwards and pull down his pyjama pants to examine the damage. She lets out a low whistle, but when Thor tries to look she lets go of the waistband to hide Loki's arse again.

“I'm gonna go to the pharmacy.” She says sagely, and she pats Loki's shoulder as she stands. “Clint, come with me.”

“But you're just-”

“Barton, what the Hell?”

“Oh, right, yeah, no I get you.” Loki has more affection for the three people in this room than he does anyone else in the world, but Clint Barton's social graces are questionable at the very least.

“He attacked you?” Thor asks, and Loki rolls his eyes, moving to seat himself again.

“It was erotic injury, I confess.” Loki murmurs, and Thor frowns at him, crossing his arms over his chest. It has been some time since they have spoken face to face, and Loki feels awkward about it, but he lets that show not at all on his face.

“I have no fondness for your line of work.” Thor says.

“So you have said a dozen times.” Loki retorts tiredly, and Thor's expression softens as he regards his brother.

“Jane and I could find a job-”

“I have no wish to take a position alongside your fiancée, Thor.” Loki says stiffly, and Thor sits down, looking at him seriously.

“Alongside her friend Darcy? She could no doubt find you work.”

“I like the work I do already.”

“It's not _work_ -”

“Thor.” Loki says seriously, and Thor lets out a quiet sigh.

“I love you, Loki. It pains me to think of you as unsafe.”

“I am not unsafe.” Loki returns quietly. “I love you also, brother; but I prefer this work to any other. And I am good at it.” Thor sighs once again, but then he nods his head.

“I respect your decision.” He says grudgingly, and then asks, “Will you stay here tonight?”

“If Clint allows me.” Thor nods his head. “As always, brother, if you require any money-”

“I know.” Loki says, and for all he loves his brother, he wishes Thor would leave, that he might slacken and relax in his place again. There is a long pause. “Are you going?”

“Yes.” Thor says reluctantly, and he pulls Loki close again, pressing such an awfully sloppy kiss to the smaller man's forehead that Loki slaps his hip in irritation. Thor laughs, fondly enough. “In the event that you retire, I will set you up with Darcy.”

“Are you sure Selvig is not more appropriate?” Thor looks at him seriously.

“If Professor Selvig so much as laid a hand upon you, brother, I would cut off all ties.”

“You are too much of a dramatist.” Loki complains, but inwardly he feels a touch of pleasant, fond warmth.

“As you are.” Thor murmurs, and then he pats the other's shoulder before he leaves again. Loki flops in the chair, regretting it immediately. He lets out a harsh little noise and throws himself to his feet just as Clint and Natasha come home.

“Ass?” Clint asks, throwing him the cannister of balm, and Loki nods his head, catching it.

“My thanks.”

“You need help with the application?” Natasha asks with a wink, and Loki makes a face at her, disappearing into the bathroom. He hears no speech as he closes the door; this is not because they are not talking about him. It's because both of them, of course, speak ASL.

Loki is tired, and his buttocks hurt, and he has to worry about no longer feeling humiliated whilst also selecting a new client.

“How do you feel about lasagne for dinner, kid?” Clint asks as he re-enters the room, and Loki nods; he is not shy, but he is somewhat- cautious.

“Would it be alright if, if tonight I-”

“Stay.” Clint says firmly, with a nod of his head. “You can always stay here, man. Key's always there.”

“Do you still leave your key on the railing outside?” Natasha asks sharply, and Clint shrugs his shoulders. Loki lets out a quiet chuckle despite himself, rubbing the back of his neck. It is good to be among people who he _knows_ to be friends.

 


End file.
